Downfall of Demigods
by WanderingSpectre
Summary: They believed an era of demi-gods would prosper, they're wrong. When Piper is at the mercy of the Roman Emperor's heir, she finds that a prophecy on a great war will inevitably come true because of him. How can Greek general Perseus and his allies help stop it from happening if a power greater than them is plotting their downfall? Will killing the heir prevent war...or begin it?


_"I am no bird; and no net ensnares me: I am a free human being with an independent will."_

- Charlotte Brontë

_Part One_

_Chapter One_

Feet drag themselves slowly against the concrete pavement, the sound of whimpers and moans hang through the air as heavily as the shackles that hang from the blistering wrists of every captured slave. Their eyes shift nervously from corner to corner the closer they got to the city square, whispers and curious looks following them down the streets from every turn they took.

The girl fell to the ground, her manacles gnawing into the skin of her palms until it turned a bright pink and began to tear away. She winced in pain, pushing herself up as fast as she could to prevent catching any unwanted attention. The pain eventually dulled, slowly fading away with each sharp breath she took.

How long had she been walking? How much longer did she have to endure this until her knees would finally give in and cause her to fall to the ground once more?

The sun was not kind today, its bright rays were scorching hot against her face as she attempted to cover it with her greasy hair. It had been several days since they came and took her away along with a few others of her kind, forcing them into wooden boxes where they had to piss and sleep both night and day. The girl blinked slowly, licking her dry lips and tasting the dry air with her parched tongue.

She was not a particularly vain girl, but since her deprivation from good practices of hygiene, she had become more aware of the toll it was taking on her body for each day she was unable to neither bathe nor get a proper meal. Beneath her eyes were dark circles that shifted from a shade of purple to black depending on how much sleep she had managed to get the previous night. Her tongue was a greyish white from lack of water, and her normally smooth and tanned skin had become dry and pale from staying within the confines of the tiny cage for the past two weeks.

Two weeks.

It had been two weeks since the raid in her village, two weeks since they'd taken her away from her personal prison and made her an actual prisoner...two weeks since she'd finally lost all hope of leading a better life.

Things had gone downhill from there, death was present nearly everyday.

The Romans were ruthless, burning and destroying everything in their path no matter who their cruel deeds affected.

She was scared, terrified actually.

When night came,_ that_ was when she was most afraid. It was in the night that the soldiers drank their _posca_ and most of the time had too much of it, unlocking the cages of the slaves and pulling out any woman they could find just to have their disgraceful selves satisfied.

Several times they had come for her, their hungry eyes filled with lust as they travelled all over her body with an untamed desire. They had tried pulling her from the box, dragging her by her feet and pinning her to the ground no matter how loud she cried and screamed.

_'Let go of me!_' she'd scream with all her might, her nails digging into the skin of her attacker as her hand raked at his face repeatedly.

And just like that, her attacked would stop, pushing her to the dirt ground and then throwing her back into the box...but not before casting the usual hate filled glare and spit on her face. Perhaps the gods were watching her, taking pity on her and granting her some form of immunity from the touch of the Roman men. But she didn't believe that they were doing her a favour at all. If they truly cared, they would have protected her village from the terrors of the Romans. What of all those offerings she'd made to Hestia and Hera for the protection of her home? As much as she hated the damned place, it was as close at it got to a home and she'd made a few friends there during her stay.

Friends she would never see again.

Her eyes were exhausted from shedding tears, and she'd come to accept the fact that she'd never see her father again. It was difficult to think that she'd never be able to see his charming smile or hear his joyful laugh run past her ears anymore. His warm voice would echo in her mind forever, reminding her of the hell she would be living in for the rest of her life. A life under the Romans.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, lifting her lowered head up to see the face of one of the Roman soldiers. He was a gentle one compared to the rest, never having tried to take advantage of her or even scream at her.

Tears threatened to fall from the corners of her eyes, blurring her vision slightly and making it difficult to see the face of the soldier. He reminded her of her father, with his soft eyes that had lines at their corners when a smile emerged from his lips.

They were inside some sort of hall, covered at the top with a roof and held up by tall white columns that stood gracefully as if they reached Olympus itself.

"I will remove your chains...but do not struggle or attempt to escape, it will only bring you misfortune." he whispers kindly, looking down at her with pity.

'_What other mistfortune is there? I am living in misfortune_.' she thinks, blinking back the tears as she nods timidly in response. Carefully, he removes her bonds, watching as she wraps her right hand around her left hand, gingerly feeling it to see if she would experience any pain from the touch. She does, but it is nothing compared to the pain she feels inside.

'Remove your clothes.' the leader of the soldiers commands, his deep voice cutting quickly through the air like a swift arrow released by the goddess Artemis. There is an elderly man who stands next to him, his hawk like eyes surveying the shivering greek slaves as their manacles were removed and their heads remained cast down with fear.

This was it...where was the protectress of women when she was desperately needed?

The other prisoners began to do as they were told, their soiled clothes falling to the ground as they attempted to shield themselves from the discerning eyes of the Roman soldiers. The girl looked to her own clothes, grasping them tightly as a conflict emerged within herself. '_I refuse_.' She thinks, looking to the naked slaves before her. These were men, women, and children she saw nearly everyday since her arrival to the village two years ago. They were people she respected and viewed as human beings..._not animals_.

One of the soldiers looked to her and sneered as he approached her his eyes undressing her by the mere expression on his face.

"Well go on." he says, grabbing her by her wrists and gripping them so tightly that it made her whimper in pain. She grits her teeth, trying to pull away from the soldier's harsh grasp and be free. He slaps her face, leaving it throbbing and red as she tried not to fall off balance. The gentle soldier stops him, taking her wrist and mediating the situation with his calm demeanour.

"Maximus leave the slave girl be. She will do as we say, she is simply affected by the heat." the gentle soldier says, looking to her with a serious expression on his kind face.

"What is this I see?" the three turn to see the elderly man with hawk eyes, his eyes scrutinising the girl's form with a look of curiosity. The girl quivers under his gaze, holding herself as she shrunk back with fear.

"An impudent wench sir, she refused the orders. We are supposed to hurry, the crowd is waiting to claim their new slaves." the soldier replied with a tone of impatience, frustrated by the behaviour of the girl.

There was silence again, and the other slaves were being chained and gathered as a mass of walking naked animals. The elderly man continued to scrutinise her form in silence, she did the same, taking note of his well coiffed hair and pure white robes. He was most certainly a man of importance, with a proud look in his eyes and stern sneer formed on his hardened lips.

"Hmph. Do not bother her any longer. I will claim her myself." he says, turning away from the two soldiers to continue his survey of the slaves. The soldier who had harmed her looked to her with irritation and shock, sneering as he took the manacles from the kind soldier and forced them onto her wrists once more. "Consider yourself lucky for your _face_, girl." he spits out, then follows the elderly man towards the other slaves.

The girl turns to the kind soldier, unsure whether to be relieved that she'd already been claimed or horrified. The kind soldier looks at her with what she interpreted to be a look of encouragement, ushering her away from the rest of the slaves and towards as stool she could sit on. His touch is so gentle, almost immediately she thinks of her father once again. She pulls her knees to her chest and rest her chin on them, burying her face in her chained hands until she could not see any light creep through the cracks between her two hands and ten fingers.

"What is your name?" she looks back at the kind soldier, surprised to hear him speaking to her again.

"...Piper." she replies, somewhat embarrassed by how unusual her name is. The soldier gave her a small smile, the sides of his eyes crinkling up with laughter lines that were all too familiar to her. "It is an unusual name, albeit, a good one nonetheless. I hope you cherish that name while you can Piper." he says, laying his hand on her shoulder once more as if to offer her some comfort.

"What? I've lost my freedom, and you people take away the only thing I have left, my name?" she asks, anger beginning to course through her veins and boil her blood. The soldier shook his head, the aura he exuded one of sadness and pity, "I say this because I see my daughter in you Piper, and I hope that you will be able to endure what is to come. I hope that your master will treat you well and keep you safe from harm, he is a very influential one, which may cause you to be unsafe."

"Who...is my master?" she whispered, her heart beating painfully against her chest until she could barely feel herself breathing. She tugs nervously on her greasy hair, her fingers slipping each time she did so.

The gentle soldier looks at her once more and grins, removing his hand from her shoulder and looking to the elderly man as he studied the crowd of slaves fall into a line. "That man is a part of the inner circle of the leading class in this Empire...he buys women and presents them as gifts to those he is closest to. In this case, it is the great Emperor."

Piper paused, feeling as if she was suddenly about to fall into Tartarus and stay there for all eternity, consumed by the fire and poisonous creatures that awaited her there. But aside from this, she could only feel more fury and anger as she thought of her new master, the Emperor. The man who allowed and encourage all this treachery in the first place. Piper wanted to kill him, to cause him pain and make him suffer for what he was doing to her and the rest of the Greeks. If only the leaders in Olympia could see this...they'd be able to stop this madness, this _cruelty_.

It didn't matter whether she'd die in the end, death was inevitable.

She was going to escape, or die trying.

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